One month later.
Mara's hands wouldn't stop shaking.
As she watched the steam curl into the morning of the reconstructed infirmary, she tightened her hands around the mug of bitter willow tea.
Outside, the first frost covered the ruins of Valenmoor in a delicate, beautiful, and white snow.
Like peace.
The thorn above her heart itched.
…..
As usual, he found her standing on the eastern wall, looking at the horizon where the Star had fallen.
"You're supposed to be resting," Jarek said, tossing her a woolen wrap.
Mara caught it without looking.
The movement was too smooth, too practiced. One month ago, she would have made a mistake.
A month ago, she didn't carry a god-killer's scar.
"Dreams again?" he asked quietly.
Mara placed her hand on her chest. The thorn had become as small as a coin, its edges burned into her skin.
"He's in there," she murmured. "Both of them. The Duskheir's whispers. And... him."
She did not mention Ethan's name. Some words were too heavy for dawn's fragile light.
Jarek let out a deep breath.
"The healers found something."
…..
The aged manuscript was spread out on the oak table, its pages fragile.
"The Veyra Lineage: Blood Pact of the First Vessel"
Mara traced the drawing, a thorny-veined woman with a void-black knife raised in the air. A thirteen-pointed star bled beneath her feet.
"The ritual wasn't complete," Jarek said. "We didn't just wound the Star. We made a mark.
Mara felt the beating of her scar.
A vision appeared.
A crack in the sky.
An emerald eye that was leaking black sap.
Someone said in a whisper. Ethan's? The Duskheir's? "It's coming back."
She slammed the book shut.
…..
That night, the a child fell ill.
Not with fever. Not with pox.
With light.
Mara's scar pounded in time with the boy's tiny emerald veins that glowed beneath his skin. She then put her hand to his chest.
The healers took a step back.
She looked across the infirmary at Jarek.
No words are needed.
The Star was still alive.
It was implanting itself.
…..
Mara dozed off while holding the hilt of the void-blade, which was all that was left after the ceremony.
The dream came to her in an instant.
There are no roots this time. No prison of gold and shadow. Just an endless field of glass, reflecting a sky with twelve stars.
Ethan stood waiting.
His form flashed between the man she remembered and something... more.
His eyes were twin pools of liquid night as void and starlight flowed together.
"It's using the children," he said. Voice layered, echoing. "Growing new vessels."
Mara's dream hand went to her scar.
"Why show me this?"
Ethan's eyes shifted to the hilt she was holding.
"Because you already hold the knife."
…..
In the morning, Mara stood above the weak child.
Curses were whispered as the healers ran away. All that was left was Jarek, with his hand on his regular steel knife.
Mara removed the void hilt from her belt.
"We can't kill a star," Jarek said quietly.
Mara turned the artifact over. This blade was designed to break cleanly, leaving this exact fragments in its wake.
"No," she agreed. "But we can change it."
She touched the glowing child's chest with the hilt.
…..
There was a burst of light.
The boy lean back, screaming, but not in pain.
In release.
The emerald veins darkened beneath his skin and then transformed into golden threads that settled harmlessly.
Mara's scar burned in sympathy.
The child fell asleep quietly as the light dimmed.
On his chest, a single mark remained…
a tiny, perfect thorn.
…..
Jarek grabbed Mara's wrist.
"What did you do?"
She showed him her palm.
The boy's flesh had dissolved the void hilt.
"Gave him a choice," Mara whispered. "Like someone once gave me."
The first snow fell outside the window.
There was a murmur of Ethan's voice, somewhere in the darkness between heartbeats.
"The first cut isn't the deepest."